Knock On Wood

Kill me with your words

of kindness, abruptly torn.

Starve my soul

of presence, gone.

 

Deceive, aggrieve,

repent until you’re done.

Then knock on wood,

ere hope shorn.

 

Belittle love in guile,

Oh! errant knave,

Abstain from pleasures true,

behold the grave.

 

For want of trust,

belief in price once paid,

confusion lies, bereft

at words unsaid.

 

Oh, honesty and kindness

where art thou?

Gods lie, distort,

question here and how.

 

A game of chance,

splendoured by each season,

false deities exposed

to truth and reason.

 

If truth be told,

expose your soul to me,

no hidden heart

but kindness guarantee.

 

Should deities redeem

all that they could,

we, mortals, pray and fast,

then knock on wood.

6 thoughts on “Knock On Wood”

  1. This rings so true, Anne-Marie. Wavering between trust and doubt, hope and superstition, we bind ourselves in the chains of our own captivity when love and grace is there for the asking. Love this.

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